


2184

by legendofspaghetti



Category: Original Work
Genre: 2184, Angst, Anyways, Arranged Marriage, Dystopia, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Oregon - Freeform, corrupt government, dystopian novel, especially one in particular, futuristic united states, he really needs to chill, sad things, science-fiction, very bitchy men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6697996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofspaghetti/pseuds/legendofspaghetti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2184 and the world has gone through some changes. The United States is now called the United Territories of North America and is split into two territories: the west being controlled by a once terrorist group called La Vida and the East, who so far has been able to stave off La Vida’s advances. The government of the Country of Vida's intentions are to eradicate poverty and the lower class from the World, to allow everyone a healthful, comfortable life.<br/>But behind La Vida's seemingly good intentions lies grim deceit and possibly evil. The only hope to stop the Vidans falls to two teens, Kyle and Katie. Though their worlds are drastically different from one another's, the only way that they will be able to save their country, and themselves, is to work together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2184

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get to meet one of the main characters, Kyle!   
> Much fluff and fatherly love ensues. 
> 
> Did I mention their lives suck?
> 
> Anyways, welcome to the first chapter of my original novel, 2184! This is a project I've been working on for well over a year. It will consist of four parts, one for each season of the year. Part one is complete as of now, but I will only post one chapter (or section, I don't really call them chapters) per week for now, until this is caught up. Hopefully that way I'll write enough to keep up a backlog.   
> I hope to publish this story one day, but for now it's free for anyone to see, and I'd appreciate any critiquing of my works. Thanks so much!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my awesome Tumblr! I reblog Undertale and SU and other pretty things I find. https://www.tumblr.com/blog/legendofspaghetti

Kyle had a problem.  
He could either:  
    One: Head east towards home, feeling botched as he greeted his hungry family and possibly angry father, empty handed yet safe, or:  
    Two: He could head westwards towards the setting sun, to the East Fork of the Green River. Doing this would be disobeying his father’s rule of being out past sunset, but on the flip side possibly landing a deer getting a late evening sip at the water, which could feed his family for at least two or three weeks.  
    Kyle stamped down a black beetle below his patched fabric boots, squishing it into the soft dead canary grass that made up his trail, glancing nervously east, the way he had come. Days ago, there would not have been any thought about it. He would have steadfastly and obediently minded his father’s rules; but this was before Dakota had gotten so thin that she’d fainted, becoming too weak to even walk herself behind a tree to relieve herself. Kyle’s idiotic seven year old little sister had been covertly skipping their scanty meals, to make sure that their cat, Kitscher, had something to eat. He smiled, wondering how anyone that small and skinny, with every rib showing, could have a heart so big.  
    He supposed he should get on with it, one way or another. Clutching his willow and fishing line bow close to his chest, he took a last wary look around, checking for a flash of movement or unnatural white against the green and brown foliage of the forest. Seeing nothing out of the usual, he kept plodding west on the deer trail, treading lightly and avoiding frosty leaves that might crack at the slightest nudging. Ignoring the little thread of guilt in his stomach, he listened to the chorus of the wind rattling through the bare branches, the call of an alarmed robin, telling himself over and over that he was doing the right thing, and that his father couldn’t be too angry, as long as he caught something, right?  
Right, sight, there!  
    The river glittered between gaps in the trees, the ripples ablaze with the light from the setting sun. A flicker of movement revealed two does on the path ahead of him, nosing over a thicket of snow-berry, their sensitive noses prying the bare branches for early blossoms. They had their backs to Kyle, and with the wind blowing into his face, there was no fear of his hiding place being sniffed out.  
    Holding his breath, Kyle slowly reached over his shoulder and pulled an arrow from his sheath, hoping to God that they wouldn’t rattle against each other and alert the deer. As the silence stretched out, unbroken by even the slightest hint of breath, Kyle let himself a small smile of satisfaction while he brought his bow up and sighted along the arrow. The big doe or the littler one? He set his sight on the big one for a moment, then settled for the small one; Biggie might be able to feed his family a little longer, but even he didn’t have the strength to carry her all the way back home.  
    Little One turned her body north, exposing her fragile side to him. Kyle slowly pulled the arrow back, concentrating on the spot right behind her foreleg. She flicked her ears at small rustlings, her winter coat rolling over her shoulders to dissuade ticks.           Letting out a breath, Kyle let the arrow fly, his eyes widening as a loud crashing broke the silence around him and the does sprang away. His arrow landed in Little One’s flank, but she hardly seemed to notice as she made her airborne getaway.  
    Kyle leapt forwards along the trail, his strides long and silent. He found a tall maple next to the water and scurried up it like a raccoon with its tail between its legs, not stopping until he was twenty feet up, and then looking down along the trail, hoping he was higher than Their line of sight.  
    Two men in thick white suits with cloths over their faces wandered down the deer trail, their gazes tearing across the bushes, probably searching for him in the shaggy shrubs. They both held sleek laser guns with other forms of artillery strapped over their shoulders like sashes. On their chests, a small symbol was stitched, too far away for Kyle to make out. Letters also stretched across the fabric, and though Kyle couldn’t read, he knew exactly what they said.

                                                                                                                                _ **La Vida**_

    La Vida. It means, “Life”. They were the new government of the new country, ‘Vida’, the life of the people, the livelihood, blah blah blah, according to Kyle’s father. He also made disgruntled comments on how The Life, had ended so many lives.  
    Including Mom’s.  
    The two Vidan soldiers stomped around the clearing, inspecting the area where the deer had been, searching the ground for any sign left by Kyle, but he was a professional, and they would be disappointed again.  
    Kyle had run from and outsmarted the searching soldiers many a time, and found almost an amusement out of it, a sort of game. Today though, Kyle stayed up in his maple and waited the soldiers out, which didn’t take long, as it was only a scout patrol, and they probably had lots more ground to cover before returning to their city bubble.  
    After they had crunched on through the forest into the distance, Kyle hopped down from his perch and made his way back to the clearing where the deer had been, scanning the ground for any inclination of Little One: a drop of blood, bent branches, a hoof print in the dirt. Still wary of Vidan soldiers in the area, Kyle kept his head low as he followed the wounded deer’s trail off the beaten path and through a swathe of thimbleberry and bent ferns. The path zigzagged along the riverbank, steadily heading north.  
    The sun had about set when Kyle finally came up on the doe. She was still alive, still standing, somehow, though greatly favoring her back right flank. She had her head down, but her ears flicked around wildly, testing the air for any sign of further danger.     Feeling a twinge of guilt that the deer had had to suffer so much longer than he’d meant, he pulled another arrow and landed it in the doe’s hide, right behind her shoulder, straight into her heart. The doe’s head went up in surprise as she fell to the ground with a soft thump, dead almost instantly.  
    Kyle walked forward, shoving through some English ivy to the deer’s side, bending over her and pulling out his arrows. Looking up at the purpling sky and finding a lone star, Kyle murmured, “Thank you, whoever’s up there, for providing this deer’s life to continue my family’s. Amen, I guess?” Kyle’s father always muttered a few words after a successful hunt, to honor the animal’s spirit or whatever. Kyle thought it was rather dumb, as he doubted anyone was up there, but habit persisted his prayer.  
    After sheathing his arrows, Kyle heaved the doe over his shoulder, groaning under her weight. With the extra bulk, it would probably take at least an hour to walk the mile back home. Kyle frowned and started east.  
*******  
Kyle’s father wasn’t at the swooping pine in front of their home where they met every evening when he came home late, which meant that he was out in the woods, most likely looking for him. Scowling, Kyle found some ropes buried under some old leaf litter and strung up the doe to keep the body out of reach of scavengers. Since the Vidan government had taken over and there were considerably less people in the woods, the black bear and cougar had become increasingly comfortable with the few people there were. Kyle’s grandfather had a large scar across his leg to prove the point.  
    Kitscher meowed at him and narrowed his Siamese eyes as Kyle ducked past and under the roots into the cave that made up their temporary home. With Vidan soldiers constantly patrolling the forest, Kyle’s family had several of these temporary homes set up, so it was less likely that they’d be found.  
    “Grandpa? Carson, Koty?” The dirt cave was quiet and dark. Had his family left for one of the other hideouts without him?  
    “Kyle? That you?” Grandpa’s rusty voice broke the silence, and a small flame broke the unending darkness, illuminating the pale faces of Kyle’s family. “Phew. How considerate of you to show up.”  
    “Sorry,” Kyle started, then stopped when he saw his grandfather’s stony expression. Carson, Kyle’s twelve year old little brother glared at him from his mat.  
    “Did you at least bring back something to eat? Dad’s pissed.”  
    Dakota’s shrill voice cut in, “You didn’t catch a bunny did you? I hate it when you hunt bunnies.”  
    Kyle grinned. Dakota hated it when he caught anything. Had things been different and they didn’t need to hunt to survive, Kyle was certain his little sister would be a vegetarian. She already mostly stuck to a diet of the plants and roots they went out to gather in spring and summer. “Naw, Koty, I caught a doe. blacktail, I think.”  
    “Mmm, we haven’t had any venison in a while, methinks,” Grandpa couldn’t help but smile a bit. “It still doesn’t excuse staying out after dark. You could have been captured or killed. . . .I suppose I’ll save the lecture for when Rowell gets home.”  
    Kyle felt the urge to argue in his defense, and instead bit his tongue.  
    “If Dad gets home. Because of you he’s out stumbling about the woods and in just as much danger, if not more, than you were. He shouldn’t be out there on that leg,” Carson grunted. He’d seemed angry lately, and found pretty much any excuse to start yelling. Especially at Kyle. It was like having another father, albeit a younger one. Carson was rather short, and still lanky; he wasn’t nearly as strong as Kyle, who’d been helping his father hunt since he was six, but made up for it in swiftness. Last summer, after Father had broken his leg, Carson started fishing in one of the smaller creeks, and would bring home up to ten fish a day. Quite a feat, considering Kyle had broken their last fishing pole two years before, so Carson’s only tool was a small green fishing net.  
    Kyle felt a niggle of guilt. Father was still limping around rather badly, and there were so many places and things he could trip over out in the forest. What if he hurt himself and a patrolman found him before Kyle did? “Dad can take care of himself,” Kyle murmured, his voice a higher pitch than he would’ve liked.  
    He grabbed his paper and a small sliver of charcoal from the fire pit, which was cool and ashy, having not been used in around a week. The indoor fire was only used for warmth---the deer or any other meat that Kyle’s family brought in would be cooked at the outdoor fire, which was away from their den.  
    Kyle lit a few more candles and grabbed an electronic lightStick before he sat down on his bed, which was made up of a thin sheet of foam and a crocheted blanket that Grandma had made before she died. The rest of the family quieted down, Grandfather returning to reading one of his encyclopedias that he’d read a hundred times, and Carson whittling on another willow stick. Dakota pulled Kitscher off the ground and dragged her cat over to Kyle’s bed, where she plopped beside him, the cat limp in her lap, gazing at Kyle with an expression of defeat.  
    “What’re you drawing?” Dakota leaned towards him, peering over his shoulder at the blank paper.  
    “Nothing yet, silly. I’m thinking of sketching the coyote I saw out by the old orchard this morning.” Although Kyle still didn’t know how to read, he’d been drawing ever since he could remember, and was pretty sure he was quite good at it. Dakota loved watching him draw. Her little blonde head leaned against him as he worked on the coyote’s head, with its large ears and thin snout and little beady grey eyes.  
    Dakota eventually slumped against Kyle and then startled back into wakefulness. “Hey, have you drank any of the water I boiled earlier today?” Kyle asked. His little sister looked even paler than she had this morning, if that was possible. “You don’t want to get dehydrated.”  
    “Oh, I forgotted,” Dakota muttered, yawning.  
    Kyle got to his feet and went over to the large plastic jug of water he had collected this morning, pulling out a mug from the small basket next to it and scooping up a bit of yellowy water. They had to boil the water from the river, but even once it was thoroughly clean and safe to drink, it still retained a bit of its color.  
    Kyle handed the mug to Dakota, whom sipped it slowly.  
    “Have I ever shown you kids what Oregon looked like back before the sea-rising?” Grandpa looked up from his encyclopedia, smiling faintly.  
    Kyle nodded. He’d looked through all of Grandpa’s encyclopedias a million times, trying to teach himself to read, or sometimes just looking at the full color pictures.  
    Grandpa waved the siblings over, and gestured across the book. “This here’s a World Book from back in 2026, just before the sea levels started comin’ up so rapid-like. Before that, they’d only raised about 8 inches since back in 1880.” He pointed to a large map that took up a quarter of a page. It showed a green expanse of land with hills and flat area, dotted with cities that Kyle didn’t know the names of.  
    “Where do we live on this map, Grandpa?” Carson inquired.  
    Grandpa’s finger travelled over the paper, along a river that must’ve been the Willamette. Once he was about three quarters of the way down the valley, he started moving his finger left, along the Alsea, and stopped over a small, hilly, forested area. “Just about here. Close to Eugene. Southwest of Salem. That is Oregon’s Capitol. All underwater, now. Now they are thinking about making the capitol Portland-Vancouver. Well, they were, eight years ago. Also partly underwater, but they’ve got so much interesting technology and floating buildings and such that it’s not much a problem anymore. They could probably build cities out on the ocean now.”  
    “Wow. I want to live on the ocean!” Dakota smiled. “Can you show us the ocean, Grampa?”  
    “Sure, sweetheart,” Grandpa grinned and flipped through the large book. “Which one? There’s five main oceans, and a bunch of small seas. Atlantic, Pacific—which is on Oregon’s coast—Southern, Indian, Arctic, and I don’t know all the seas.”  
    “I want to see them all,” Kyle murmured.  
    Grandpa grinned and smoothed down his white curls. “Okay. World map it is, then. He flipped through a few more pages to the front of the book, and presented them with a map that showed all the continents and the oceans. “The world looks a bit different now, and most of these countries here don’t even exist anymore. It’s probably changed even more in the last few years that we’ve been out here.”  
    “Whoa, Grampa, these two countries, they look like they could fit together!” Dakota pointed at two of the southern continents.  
    “Yep, all the continents used to fit together into a giant supercontinent called Pangaea. That was before humans, though. It’s called plate tectonics.”  
    “Don’t mean to interrupt the little history lesson you’re giving, Dad, but I need to talk to my son,” Father’s voice cut into the cheery mood of learning, and Kyle tensed, feeling his father’s rough leathery hands on his shoulders. He followed his father across the den, where he was sat down on the log bench that was their makeshift couch.  
    “You know you are not to stay out past dark, Kyle. You deliberately disobeyed me. You could’ve been hurt, or captured by a patrol... gee I almost wish they would, it’d save us the worry,” Father grumbled, pacing back in forth in front of the bark-less log.  
    “Daddy! You don’t mean that,” Dakota cut in, obviously listening from across the room.  
    “If I have to go searching for you after dark one more time then I’ll certainly mean it,” Father raised his voice.  
    Kyle looked up from the dirt under his torn boots. “I caught a deer, though. I wanted to make sure that we’ll have food. That Koty’ll have food.”  
    “If you’d gone out earlier in the afternoon, instead of spending the whole day wasting tinder with your drawing, you could’ve caught a deer earlier!”  
    “The deer, or any animal, for Christ’s sake, don’t come out until dusk because it’s so damn hot!” Kyle fumed.  
    Father’s face seemed to glow red. “Don’t you dare use God’s name in vain, or cuss, either for that matter, boy. Because you caught that doe, I can afford to punish you for a few days. You will not be leaving the den, except to accompany Carson and Dakota when they go gathering. Is that clear?”  
    Kyle nodded, and when Father’s back was turned, stuck out his tongue at him. Dakota and Carson giggled.  
   “And no drawing either, period,” Father spat, and then sat heavily, pulling off his boots.  
    Dakota ran over to her bed, and grabbed a jar from under her blanket. “Oh, Daddy, I forgotted to tell you. Guess what day it is?”  
    Father glanced up, and gruffly asked, “What day is it, sweetheart?”  
    Dakota started struggling with the lid, which was sealed tight to keep whatever was inside fresh. Looked like peaches. “It’s December 31st, Daddy. Tomorrow’s New Years!”  
    Grandpa grabbed the jar out of Dakota’s small hands and popped it open easily. He smirked as the smell of peaches filled the small space. “Here’s to 2184. Another year in hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> Updates on weekends! Fridays for now as I have a good build up, but I'll most likely move it to Sundays when we're caught up. ^.^


End file.
